Poor Wayfaring Stranger

GEORGIA Be of love a little more careful than of anything. image by Csutkaa @ flickr.com It was obvious that he was in pain and that alone was enough to make Georgia's heart hurt for the stranger. She couldn't stand by and watch as he struggled to remove his shirt so she could better see the wound, so she helped to gently peel the material away from the bleeding wound. She carefully helped work the shirt up and over his head and once it was off she placed it on the counter. "I'll clean it once I'm finished with your wound." She offered as she walked back to where Tristan sat waiting. Kneeling down next to where he sat, she was able to get a better look at the injury. "It'll need stitches." She said, glancing up at him, her gaze questioning. Many people shied away from stitches -- the repeated stabbing of a needle through already injured flesh was something that was hard to stomach. Some opted for a longer healing time and a bigger scar because of that fear. She was gentle as she could possibly be as she began to work. Cleaning the wound was, perhaps, just as painful as it would be to stitch it. Alcohol burned, but it was required to fight against any kind of infection that could potentially take root and complicate the healing process. "Sorry." She murmured quietly any time he flinched. "It'll be over soon." She promised, though she knew from experience, that when you were on the receiving end of stitches time seemed to drag on endlessly. He started talking and she knew right away that it was a coping mechanism to keep his mind off of the needle going in and out of his skin. "Georgia." She said when he asked her name. "I do now." A less trusting person may have allowed a stranger to believe that they lived with someone else, but Georgia didn't sense any ill intent from the man sitting at her kitchen table. "I lived with my grandmother until she passed a year or so ago. I can't bear to part with her cottage or that garden... too many memories attached." She looked up at Tristan and smiled. "I guess it's a good thing I didn't abandon it." Immediately after her attention went back to the work at hand, her fingers quickly and expertly stitching the wound closed. "Where are you from?" She asked while she worked, both out of curiosity and an attempt to keep his mind occupied. Several minutes later the wound was closed and Georgia began bandaging it. "Be careful with moving." She warned as she wrapped the bandages around his middle. "If you rip those stitches out you'll open that wound back up and it'll be far more painful the second time around." She stood then and stretched her back before turning to retrieve his bloody shirt. "I'll get this cleaned for you. Make yourself at home." "."